


Fires of Eden

by akikouyou



Category: The 39 Clues - Various Authors
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, Love, SOFT AS FUCK, a songfic but not really, yes I did name this after a cher song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:41:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24433753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akikouyou/pseuds/akikouyou
Summary: But this was Nataliya, who enjoyed doing things she was told not to do, and who understood Irina more than anyone in the world.
Relationships: Irina Spasky/NRR
Kudos: 4





	Fires of Eden

**Author's Note:**

> Something absolutely wholesome taking place sometime before the clue hunt because I desperately freaking need soft Irina :,)

Things were supposed to be calmer in the Lucian branch while Isabel and Vikram Kabra were away on vacation, and for the most part, it was. However, Irina didn’t possess any more freedom than she had before, and to Nataliya it seemed like she was on a plane every other week.

So in truth, everything was happening as it always did. Nataliya was keeping up with her workload. It was nothing she couldn’t handle, but it was much more than she would have liked to deal with. Though Isabel was five thousand miles away in the bahamas somewhere, she was still bossing everyone within an inch of their lives. Nataliya was scrambling around doing everything in between to keep things in order, to keep the machine oiled.

‘Jack of all trades’ was what she’d begun calling herself when Ivan from Security requested her help with redoing the layout of cameras in the Paris stronghold. Enough people saw Nataliya’s gracious hand touch all those blueprints that they decided, yes, they too needed her to look over something. Normally she wouldn’t have minded of course. With Irina having boarded another plane four days ago, she liked having something to keep her mind occupied and her thoughts free of worry. But it was at four o’clock on a Thursday afternoon, after Nataliya had spent the last three hours in a god awful meeting, that she decided she wanted tomorrow off.

Right before she gathered her things to go home though, she received a call from her usual cleaning service informing her that the house hadn't been cleaned. A cancellation on their end, the lady said on the phone, and no one would take the job tomorrow as it was a public holiday.

Irina was coming back on Saturday, and Nataliya had taken tomorrow off. There was an obvious answer to the problem, and Nataliya never really minded cleaning. They only had the cleaning service because Irina was gone too frequently to do it herself, and she disliked when Nataliya did it. She nearly lost her mind when she came home one day and found Nataliya standing on a wobbling kitchen chair, dusting the top of the refrigerator.

_ “What if you fall? What if you hit your head? You know what happens,” _ Irina scolded.

Oh well. Irina wouldn’t be home to scold her tomorrow.

…

The house wasn’t terribly big. It had two floors, but Nataliya didn’t think it would take all day. And in the worst case scenario she could leave out some things and make Irina finish the rest.

Upon waking early Friday morning, she got dressed, ate, and from the closet pulled out a fancy steam mop, window cleaner, and a vacuum cleaner. As well as various rags and other cleaning supplies she could find. 

Starting upstairs, Nataliya stripped the bed and remade them with clean sheets, dusted their bedroom, the office, and the guest room, then vacuumed. She left the windows for last on both floors until breaking for lunch. No food in the house, so she walked down the street and got lunch in a small cafe.

She finished her meal at home and began putting things back where they went upstairs. Upon rearranging the towels in the bathroom, she paused and thought about how grateful she was that she always sent their linens to be dry cleaned rather than washing them herself. Nataliya was never one that liked flaunting her money, contrary to her Lucian relatives, but it was still nice to have.

“I guess privilege does have it’s uses,” she muttered to the empty house.

Now it was time to start the bottom floor, which would probably take a little more time, so she decided to treat herself to some music while she worked, wiping and scrubbing and vacuuming.

It was mid-afternoon when she was almost done, and though she wasn’t doing anything terribly strenuous, Nataliya felt like she had just worked eight days straight rather than the four.

“Mm, something relaxing, not too exciting,” she mumbled. “But still a little energetic.” They had a CD player, and Irina had a collection of various disks filled with music, not limited to one particular artist. 

“Well this will do,” Nataliya said as the first song came on. It was unfamiliar but she still liked it.

As the music played she put away the vacuum and tossed the rags in the hamper upstairs.

_ “But in my restless sleep I could swear I saw you next to me,” _ the music drifted through the hallways and she danced down the stairs, unaware of her surroundings, in which she assumed was vacant of onlookers.

_ “But you know those fires of Eden still burn in this heart of mine—” _

“Nataliya,” Irina’s voice, a voice that wasn’t supposed to be home until tomorrow, sounded.

Nataliya spun around with the mop in her hand (that she would not admit to using as a dancing partner) and stared, speechless for a moment, at Irina in the foyer of their home.

“It’s not what you’re thinking!”

…

Irina was exhausted. Though not in the sleepy sense. She was exhausted by the sheer stupidity that surrounded her whenever she went on a mission that involved dealing with other branches. It was a whole wonder the people around her managed to figure out a listening device, let alone a whole operation. Dmitri Yakov was a supposed saint with bugs, but as Irina liked to remind, all saints can do miracles but few of them can keep a hotel.

It was when Nina, or Alina, or whatever the asset called herself, threw yet another tantrum in front of the watchful eyes of the public that Irina simply turned on her heels and went straight to the airport. It was a long weekend, one of the few that ever existed. All she wanted was to come home and relax with Nataliya.

Upon touching down in Sheremetyevo, Irina called the stronghold and ordered a car to pick her up. Nataliya did not answer, but it wasn’t surprising knowing the woman was submerged up to her neck in work keeping things running. Irina dragged herself through the terminal and to the car awaiting her.

“Mission went well?” asked the driver, someone from the stronghold.

“Went about as well as the Titanic did.”

“Ouch.”

“I’m not doing anything about it until nine on Monday morning,” Irina sighed. Isabel and Vikram were gone, so they couldn’t yell at her about it. And she’d likely be cleaning the rest of the day and most of tomorrow assuming her cleaning service had cancelled for the holiday. Dealing with the aftermath of the mission was off the table.

“ _ Da svedanya _ , Irina,” the driver said, leaving her suitcase on the sidewalk for her to take inside. She waved him away and moved to unlock the door, pausing when she noticed music coming from inside. If it was one of her neighbors kids using her home as a party palace again, she was going to personally drag them to jail herself.

Opening the door, she was met with the rather unforgettable sight of Nataliya in a frankly flimsy outfit, hauling a steam mop down the stairs. The house smelled of multi-purpose spray and whatever citrus cleanser Nataliya was mopping the floors with.

Puzzled, Irina called out to catch the attention of the dancing woman.

“Nataliya?”

The late afternoon light gave the slender silhouette a golden backlight, and Irina couldn’t help but think that Nataliya looked beautiful, dark hair draped over her shoulders, the clothes hugging her body as she descended the staircase and the music played in the background.

_ “Oh I’m coming home, you’ll never spend another night alone…” _

“It’s not what you’re thinking!”

Irina looked down to the mop in Nataliya’s hands and at the crate of supplies on the floor near Irina’s feet.

“It looks like you’re putting away the mop after cleaning our entire home.”

“Oh,” Nataliya said, barely audible over the music that was still going. “Then it’s exactly what you're thinking.” Her frown was adorable as anything, Irina thought to herself.

“Have you been home all day?” Irina finally shut the door behind her and kicked off her shoes, sighing in relief as she did.

“Yes. I took the day off,” Nataliya replied as the song ended and faded away.

“I would have done it,” Irina said, pushing her suitcase to the coat closet.

“I know. I wanted to.”

Irina looked at Nataliya properly then, the earnestness on her face was juxtaposed by fierceness. She looked as though she were daring Irina to scold her for kindness, which, if it were anyone else, she probably would have. But this was Nataliya, who enjoyed doing things that she was told not to do, and who understood Irina more than anyone in the world.

“Well, I’ll let you finish putting away everything while I make dinner.”

“The fridge is empty,” Nataliya informed her. “I’ve been working late and not eating at home so I had to toss out a lot of the food. There’s olives?”

Irina couldn’t help but laugh. Olives, indeed.

“I do like olives, but I like pasta more. I’ll order in.”

…

After they’d eaten and their evening had wound down, they began doing the dishes that had piled up in the sink after Nataliya tossed out all the food. Nataliya washed, and Irina dried them.

“I can’t believe you cleaned while I was away.”

Nataliya rolled her eyes and smiled as she continued to scrub the dishes.

“You didn’t scold me this time. You must not mind it,” she quipped.

“Don’t exaggerate,” Irina opened a cabinet, hiding behind it as she put away some cups.

“I think you like seeing me like this,” Nataliya mused. “Hair mussed and a housewife vibe. Do you perhaps have a kink,  _ luchik _ ?” Putting the last container on the rack and letting the water down the drain, Nataliya dried her hands and sauntered over to Irina, who had remained curiously silent.

Eyes sparkling with mischief, she reached to put a glass away on the top shelf of the cabinet in a way that emphasised her… assets. Suddenly Irina was less concerned with drying the dishes.

“All done,” Nataliya purred as she pushed the glass back on the shelf. Irina reached around to grab her by the waist. Nataliya nearly knocked down all the dishes in the cabinet, but managed to safely fall into Irina’s arms. A sound kiss was pressed to her mouth, and by that gesture alone, Nataliya could tell they’d be spending their long weekend in bed.

“It’s you,” Irina whispered hours later, after they’ve had and been had by each other.

“Hmm?” Nataliya was close to sleep, so naturally, Irina wanted to start a conversation.

“It’s not a housewife kink, or whatever your accusation was. It’s just you. Seeing you do things for me has always  _ done things for me. _ ”

Nataliya snorted and rolled further into Irina’s side, kissing her neck and stroking her hip.

“Well, you’re lucky I love doing things for you. And I’m— I’m just flat out lucky.”

“Stop buttering me up. I’ll put out again after a nap,” Irina returned and kissed along Nataliya’s hairline.

“I’m supposed to be the easily fatigued one out of the two of us. But like I said, I love doing things for you… and  _ to _ you.”

Irina gasped in mock outrage and immediately rolled on top of Nataliya to show her just what kind of things she could do too.

The next day, while Irina was napping and Nataliya was about to do the same, she thanked whatever gods were listening that her life had gone the way it had.

_ “Oh I’m coming home, you’ll never spend another night alone.” _


End file.
